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I have searched for a cohesive ending, yet I realize this is a life in progress.
            The end is not written.

            I can only accept the decision of the Fates.   The Moerae (Fates), daughters of Chaos; Clothos, Lachesis and Atropus:  Clothos spins the thread of one’s life.   Lachesis with her distaff measures the length of one’s life.   Atropus cuts the thread of one’s life.   They sing the song of the Sirens.   Even Zeus would not question the judgment of the Fates.   So, who am I to think I can avoid their wrath or blessing.   The ancients were very wise.   The images of the Fates and their song of the Sirens, the same song that tempted Odysseus and his crew, tempt us to reach beyond the ordinary.   If we overreach, we die.   If we do not reach far enough, we do not achieve the life we desire.   Only the Fates know the precise length of our reach.

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